The Secret Lives of Elladan and Elrohir
by Peridot-Plath
Summary: Elladan and Elrohir decide to keep an account of their lives, and contrary to popular belief, the lives of the twin sons of Elrond turn out to be not such smooth sailing after all. All lovingly recorded by E and E, sons of Elrond. Formerly on twinparadox.
1. Entry 1

**The Secret Lives of Elladan and Elrohir**

Hi, I'm Elladan.

_Hi, I'm Elrohir. We're _twins.

Since this is the first time we're writing in here, _we've decided to do a little Introduction of ourselves._

"Do you mind not cutting in Elrohir?"

_I wouldn't have if you didn't do it just then!_

**RULES:**

_For either co-writers of this account to refer to:_

_The term 'persons' refers to Elves, Hobbits, Men, Balrogs, Orcs, Goblins, Spiders, Ents, Wizards, Dwarves (shudder), etc. etc. _

1) No unauthorized persons may view this journal without seeking prior written permission from either Elladan, son of Elrond or Elrohir, son of Elrond.

2) Neither Elladan, son of Elrond nor Elrohir, son of Elrond may dispense any authorization to unauthorized persons without seeking prior written permission from his co-writer.

_"Elladan! You've written two whole rules without letting me at it!"_

"Alright, fine, have a go at it then. Here."

_3) Co-writers Elrohir, son of Elrond and Elladan, son of Elrond must take turns writing to ensure complete unbiasedness._

_One turn meaning One paragraph no more than five lines in big, spaced-out handwriting._

_4) From this line onwards, the names of co-writers Elrohir, son of Elrond and Elladan, son of Elrond shall be written and acknowledged simply as Elrohir and Elladan respectively._

"That's a relief, my hand was getting tired. Anyway, only Dad's Privy Council calls us that."

Alright, since we've got those rules straightened out, we may now commence our introduction.

**Introduction:**

Hi again, I'm Elladan and my twin brother , Elrohir is sitting right next to me trying to hide this from Dad and Erestor and Glorfindel and all other nosy what-not who live in The Homely House of Elrond (you see that name there, that's our Dad and he's sitting right across us reading the newspaper, he's insisting that we sit in plain sight of him so that he can 'watch' us after what we did yesterday). We—

_"Ahem_."

"I'm not done yet."

_"I'll write it then, and if you don't think it's fair, look at rule number three."_

"F--"

**"Is that a swearword I hear, Elladan?"**

"No Dad. Here, take it then Elro."

_"Don't call me that Ella!"_

_Alright, this is me writing now. What Elladan wanted to say just now is that we are, in elf reckoning, seventeen years old, although it is compulsory for all elves to finish university (another one of the Valar's stupid, impractical rules), we do not go to school, we flunked out of Rivendell College last year and now we are 'idle layabouts' if our Gran's judgment isn't buggled up yet. Okay, must stop now, Elladan is glaring._

"I was not!"

_"Yes you were, now just take the pen and write before I change my mind about being fair."_

Yeah, like Elrohir said, we flunked out of R. C last year, but it's not like we're stupat or anything. We're palish 'cause we don't get out much, Dad's paranoid that we'll get run over by a passing carriage or something and leave our bloody entrails lying all over the road, anyway, whenever we're bored he just tells us to 'go play with Arwen' (that's our little sister and the only games she plays are

"I'll fini_sh this line and then you can have a go—don't keep staring at m_e like that!"

Monopoly and she cries when she loses—

"Hey! It's not your turn!"

"Boys, is that a fight I he_ar?"_

_"No."_

_"No."_

_or with her Barbie dolls._

_"There, now you can have it Elladan."_

_"Oh, thank you ever so green-waddly-woddly-womping-wamping muchElrohir."_

_Also, we forgot all about the rest of our family until now—which shows exactly how important we think they are—so for starters we have a father, we have a mother, we have a sister, we have a grandma, we have a grandpa, we have—_

_"Oh, just cut the crap and ge_t to the point!"

all sorts of what-not whether in-law or out-law and we all love each other very much

not actually. I'll hair (waist length, I think) and dark brown eyes (we're not pure-blood High Elves, we don't have a monarchy in Rivendell, it's a Republic and Dad get's all smug about it because he thinks it makes us better than Mirkwood), we're about 189 centimetres long (We're still growing!) _and we weigh, hmm, on second thoughts, I shan't divulge that but anyway, we're on the skinny side so it's not that we're fat or anything. We're palish 'cause we don't get out much, Dad's paranoid that we'll get run over by a passing carriage or something and leave our bloody entrails lying all over the road, anyway, whenever we're bored he just tells us to 'go play with Arwen' (that's our little sister and the only games she plays are_

_"I'll finish this line and then you can have a go—don't keep staring at me like that!"_

_Monopoly _and she cries when she loses—

_"Hey! It's not your turn!"_

**"Boys, is that a fight I hear?"**

_"No."_

"No."

_or with her Barbie dolls._

_"There, now you can have it Elladan."_

"Oh, thank you ever so green-waddly-woddly-womping-wamping muchElrohir."

Also, we forgot all about the rest of our family until now—which shows exactly how important we think they are—so for starters we have a father, we have a mother, we have a sister, we have a grandma, we have a grandpa, we have—

_"Oh, just cut the crap and get to the point!"_

all sorts of what-not whether in-law or out-law and we all love each other very much

_--not actually. I'll have you know Gran doesn't get on with us, that's why Bilbo didn't think it would be very politically-correct / add to our sense of propriety as family of the Greatest Politician Ever and so decided not to include An Episode with Gran in that book of his. There's no other reason, our visits are very colourful and decorated with even more colourful language._

Anyway, this is an account of our lives—without the dates, if there are any numbers and dashes at the top left/right-hand corners of the page, they are very vague. This is to save ourselves the extreme agony of asking dad, he gives you a long round-a-bout answer detailing the merits of having our **own** calendar instead of just giving us the date.

_We always try to remind him that the only calendar remotely recent is the one we get once a year from the bank. And he wakes up early (flipping 4.00am) to be the first to get the mail and snag it. The rest of the year it's our job, and if the letters get soaked because of a freak storm/flood/tsunami that happened to roll by at say……3.00am, it's most definitely our fault for not foreseeing it/being resentful and soooo sulky that _

"That's 5 lines."

_"Oh, scratch that rule! It sux/sucks! It's……restrictive!"_

"Well, if you care to remember just who wrote it……"

_"It's your fault too, you agreed to it!"_

"Alright, fine."

Before we continue: 

**Amendment to rule number 3:**

_Co-writers Elrohir, son of Elrond and Elladan, son of Elrond must take turns writing to ensure complete unbiasedness._

One turn meaning One paragraph no more than five lines in big, spaced-out handwriting.

**Both Elladan and Elrohir give permission to cancel the underlined sentence above so that it now holds no effect from this point on.**

**Signed:**

**Elladan**

_**Elrohir**_

_We refuse to get the mail and therefore inconvenience dad when his documents get wet from being treated to a shower. _

and

That line: 'God is crying—we can't do anything about it' never works. And Arwen won't do it either, though she could if she wanted, she wakes up early to slice cucumbers for her eyelid stuff at 5.00am! well, it doesn't seem to be helping, she just stinks for the rest of the day, we are lucky—dad likes us to sit on either side of his precious daughter for all lunches. Such fun. Cucumber smell makes me want to hurl, it took me quite a while to hold it in. you can imagine the first time she tried it.

_Don't forget—I can't stand it any better than you can. Can you guess what happened?_

She got a double-dose of you-know-what. Well I'll just leave it at one word, to be succinct and also kind to others, it would be quite a traumatizing mental image, so, here it is: _messy, stinky, chewed-up spitty remains of the breakfasts of yours truly._

If you don't want to think about it we're quite alright with that.

_**Some more stuff we forgot to write in earlier:**_

_This is an account of our lives, it's quite a nice notebook actually, red and velvety, with large golden letters saying 'ACCOUNTS' on it, like it was just sitting around waiting for us to pick it up……_

That's just because it's one of Erestor's spares—you know, for accounts……

_You can _**pretend**_……_

**Never mind.** And the above was the introduction……or prologue if you like.

_I can't really think of anything more to say now... oh there's this odd little nub on my finger, I can sort of mould it you know……_

We'll end the introduction here,

_The accounts will be on the next page, the one after this one just in case you didn't know._

_"Elladan……the pen broke…"_

"Aargh! Go find a new one then—I think Erestor bought some new stationery the other day—yeah, and he never locks his cabinet……go on then!"


	2. Entry 2

**The Secret Lives of Elladan and Elrohir 2**

_"Okay, we're back in business, I got the pen."_

"Oh, good. May I have the honour of breaking it in?"

_"No, you didn't have to brave Erestor, he was there you know."_

"Ugh, horrible old fellow."

_"You can say that again, he practically made me go under the third degree and then he gave me another one of his dreadful lectures on how positively devious I was being for, let me put it this way, 'pilfering his stationery' "_

"Well, never mind, let's get on with the writing."

_Uh huh,_ _we'll start with yesterday then._

_All right, yesterday, mum made us clean out our rooms,_

Elrohir, I think we need a bit of an introduction there.

_It's coming, I'm not stupid._

Yeah, yeah whatever.

_--, actually, we don't have separate rooms, it's just what we tell everyone. In actual fact, we've been sleeping in the same room all our lives, Arwen has her own room though, dad says it's because "boys and girls cannot sleep together" (although we seriously dispute that—_unless of course you're the otherway inclined_) but it's just 'cos dad's a miser so he just chucked the both of us together. As for our lovely little sister, she's got her very own frilly, lacy, drapey room that's filled with all the most grotesque, fluffy stuffed animals because if she didn't she'd make a huge fuss and make sure old dad never got a moment's peace again._

Uh huh, so we were cleaning out our room because dad absolutely insisted we did it… …well, no, actually he just walked in to do another one of his "spot checks" when he accidentally trod on a palette of wet paint since we were all of a sudden seized by this great urge to do some drawing, and the palette just flipped and paint splattered everywhere. Dad flipped too then, he just started yelling at us for "leaving rubbish everywhere" and about how we had "ruined" his best pair of trousers and also about how he "could have broken his back if he had fallen".

_Yeah, you should have heard him roar! He started ranting and raving about what an absolute dog's nest our room was and that we "had better start cleaning the bloody pigsty out before somebody dies of the health hazard"._

So we had to stop painting and start tidying up, and it's truly dreadful having to get rid of at least a century's worth of mess at one go--_you mean five hundred year's mess!_

"**Boys, I've just managed to get a dental appointment!"**

"_Who's it for?"_

"**You two obviously, who did you think it'd be for! Me? I'm the one who knows how to take care of his teeth, now get off your lazy bums and get changed, we're going now."**

"You mean we're going now?"

"**Well, that's obvious, now go get changed, I expect to see you in the car in fifteen minutes."**

It's us again, we're doing this writing in the car so it's a bit wobbly. Anyway, dad's just sprung another one on us again, we're going to the dentist's. _He started doing that ever since the last time he told us in advance that we'd be going to the dentist's, still remember what we did Elladan? _Uh huh, we ran off and hid in mum's closet and dad thought we'd been kidnapped or something. _Yeah, and then he was all huffy when he finally found us 'cause he'd already lodged a police report, sent his very best press-conference outfit to the dry-cleaner's and cried buckets while being interviewed on national TV. _But it was pretty much worth it, huh? _Obviously, we'd missed our appointment and so dad couldn't get one for another six months!_

_We've always hated going to the dentist's, I still have vague memories of us in grade school, Elladan would always trot out all sorts of excuses right before it was his turn to go to the school dentist for a check-up-- _

"_Oh look! You've just made a squiggly line there!"_

"Well, it serves you right for writing that."

"**No fighting in the car."**

"_Alright, fine."_

"Deepest apologies, dad."

"**That's better."**

Well, I also have vague memories of you having the strangest habit of going to the bathroom and staying there for an hour right before your turn. _And I strangely remember that you always tagged along with me. _Only for moral support! _Yeah, you dug your nails so hard into my palms that they left marks there for days to give me moral support. _Oh? I remember that you did the same!_ Never mind! We were both afraid of the dentist, let's just leave it at that. _Uh huh.

(in whispers)

"Oh dear, we're nearly there."

"_I was afraid of that."_

_We're terrified now, ever since we left school we've been eating gummy sweets for breakfast every day, _and we've been neglecting to brush our teeth when we wake up in the morning._ Yeah, that dentist is a real drag and each time we go there, we get this dreadful lecture on how to take care of our teeth. _Plus, the guy has this habit of sticking all sorts of things into his victim's mouth (the last time we went there, he left one of those metal mini-ice picks in my mouth when I was strapped in that operating seat) while he putters about getting all the other stuff ready.

"**All right, we've arrived and I see we've got five minutes to dash up to the dentist's before you two are late, come on now, chop chop, get out of the car, I haven't all day boys."**

"_Coming dad."_

_All right, gloom and doom, we're here already and I so know what we're going to get. _Yeah, Why, I tremble at the very thought--

"**Come on, we're going to be late if you don't speed up there." **

"I know, we're…"

"_Coming dad."_

of what awaits us.

"**Hurry up boys! Stop writing that-that-­thing and get out of the car!"**

"_Sure, we're,"_

"**Hurry up then, hurry, hurry, hurry! We're going to be late already so if you don't get your bloody ass out of the car right now I going to kill you both!"**

(in whispers)

"Better get a move on now. Well, anyway, farewell my dearest brother."

"_Yeah, same to you too my good comrade."_

Well, here we are and we're back in the car on the way home. _We got three hours each of TTT, Terrible Tooth Torture in case you don't know (which is obvious 'cos you must have spent the last millennium in Erestor's stationary closet which is even more isolated than the Dead Marshes which is now a major tourist attraction), and came out of the O. R (Operating Room) with braces. _Uh huh, and they aren't even the nice, rainbow-coloured plastic types, dad wanted them boring grey to match his election campaign colour scheme (election campaigns come once every eighty years, this is one of those unfortunate years, we're afraid)and anyway, the pretty type costs about two times the price of this variety. _In addition to being the sort of dad who expects his kids (well, only the two of us) to walk around wearing billboards saying "Vote for Lord Elrond" each time an election campaign rolls along, he's also a cheapskate. _Another thing is now, we've got to be absolutely quiet, dad's in a bad mood--_you mean a towering temper, you should have heard the old man just now, he was ranting and raving and absolutely thundering at us 'cos we acted "undignified" in front of all the "Citizens of Imladris" and made him "appear cruel" and look like a "bad father". _We didn't make him appear cruel and a bad father, he is cruel and a bad father. _Of course, he doesn't know that. _

Look! We're nearly home. Uh huh, you know what it means, ­don't you? Yeah, same thing every time—it's what keeps our heads sitting on our shoulders. So it's still on the count of three? _Mm hmm, in case you're lost in there, we're discussing survival measures (it might sound a bit extreme to you all lovely sappy-dappy story-book people but real life's different. _Yes indeedy, t'is a perilous world--_you're channeling Leggy-dear there--_obviously, who else in this bloody-shit world sounds so gay? But back to thesubject, we're digressing there. _Okay, so where were we?_ Survival tactics. _Ah, yes, here we are. So we were about to explain the whole enterprise to you, dear diary, until we got, hmm, slight bit distracted there. _So, yeah, this is the way whenever Dad gets mad _which is, like, all the time--_don't interrupt Elly--so, as I was saying, whenever Daddykins throws another one of his little tantrums in the car, we always try to make ourselves scarce when we reach home. _Now it's practically protocol for us two though the whole thing gets him damn mad. Before the car stops completely enough for common sense to tell everyone else to get out, we count to three, then fling the car doors open (_this is why we've made it a habit to sit on either side of the car, never the middle)_, jump straight out and bolt off to a suitable hiding place. _

(in whispers)

"Elrohir, we're nearly there."

"_Okay, on the count of three, ­One……….­Two………"_

"All together now."

"_THREE!"_

"**WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU BOYS THINK YOU'RE DOING!"**

(Random gardener looks up and gasps, Elrond stares daggers at him. Gardener looks away, goes back to trimming the hedges.)

_Okay, it's us speaking right now._

"Elrohir, your foot's sticking into me."

"_Which bit?"_

"Don't even think of making one of your fucking jokes here! I mean it both ways, I can see your face there."

"_Oh, look babe it ain't my fault I inherited all the funny genes in the family, and it wasn't me who chose this shitty shed in the first place so if any bit of me is sticking into you, well, you know whose fault it is."_

"Yeah, you're funny alright--up there."

_So anyway we're stuck in some moldy little garden shed and it's really dark and damp here so our handwriting's sure to turn out wobbly--bear with it._ Uh huh, dad's still mad, he'll kill us if we come out now, so here we are, stuck in little old Mini Mirkwood. Really, we ought to buy the gardener a nice, colourful sign saying just that. _Thranduil wouldn't appreciate that—remember, diplomacy. _Oh well, in life one can't expect everything--oh no, I'm getting hungry. _So am I, urgh--stupid! _When do you suppose we can come out of this bloody place? _No time near._ Do you think we'll actually have to camp out here? _Perhaps……oh, bloody-blast, it's dark out already. Shit._ Shit is right.

"_My god, I'm sore all over and my eyes hurt."_

"Not much we can do about it, ­why don't we just get some sleep here? Then tomorrow we'll get up extra early and sneak in before anybody else is up."

"_Sounds good to me. Night."_

"Sleep tight then. I expect the stars are out."

"_Good."_

"You know, I'm glad I'm not alone."

"_I suppose I could say the same."_

_Hi everybud, we've been taking a super-long, long, long time to upload our little journal for your viewing pleasure 'cos the formatting went all wrong in our shitty computer_--well, no, Arwen borrowed it and after that, buggered up the thing-- _the whole page of typed-up journal became a blizzard of upside-down exclamation marks and we had to send our computer for serviceing before we could type the stuff in again. _

Okay, nobody is allowed to read it, but everyone out there is nosyand we've given up--anyway, we live in a seperate universe.


End file.
